Chapter 129
Winston walked over and casually entered Millie’s birthday–0921.
His voice was calm and indifferent as he explained, “I’ve gotten used to it. Whenever I change it to something else, I always end up getting it wrong.
Millie watched as he entered the villa. She couldn’t help but lower her head, silently berating herself for being useless. After all, Winston had merely changed the password, yet her heart had pounded violently.
“You’ll get used to it soon,” Millie remarked flatly.
Winston glanced back at her, only to hear her say, “Eventually, you’ll have to get used to other things.”
“Like what?” he sneered.
“Nothing in particular.”
For instance, Millie had gotten used to not caring about Winston and had to accept that she was no longer Mrs. Greer. She stared at him, her gaze dimmed as she acknowledged he would never love her.
Winston inadvertently met her eyes. He thought she looked exhausted. Her eyes were red, while her fair skin bore the marks of his kisses.
Millie sat on the couch before taking out her phone to text Marvin.
Millie: “Come to the villa and pick me up.”
Marvin: “Boss, what are you doing at the villa?”
Millie: “That scumbag kidnapped me.”
After sending that message, she put her phone away.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her wrist. Winston had been too rough earlier, which had worsened. her injury.
Both of them had regained their composure, yet the empty villa seemed to exude a hint of desolation.
Back when Millie had stubbomly insisted on manying Winston, she never imagined their relationship would end up in such a state.
She finally understood the meaning of “The past would always come back to haunt you“. The reckless decisions she had made had finally dealt a fatal blow.
While Millie was lost in her sorrow, she heard the person beside her hiss in pain. She turned to look, only to see that Winston was clutching his stomach. He was clearly unwell.
“Are you having gastric pain?” Millie asked instinctively.
When Winston looked up at her, she realized his piercing gaze had softened. It no longer held hostility. Instead, a hint of sadness had taken its place.
“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet. Thanks to you,” he muttered.
Millie huffed before answering. “You were the one who dragged me out. I didn’t stop you from eating.
“Had we stayed longer, you would’ve persuaded Mr. Davis to grant the land to Simon!” Winston retorted, gritting his teeth.
Just as Millie was about to shoot back, she noticed his frown had deepened, signaling his increasing pain. She sighed and checked the time. Millie reckoned Marvin would take a while to arrive, so she
rose.
Winston glanced up at her. He figured he would let her go if she wanted to leave now. To his surprise, Millie walked to the kitchen, asking. Is chicken noodle soup okay?”
Winston’s eyebrows twitched slightly. As Millie turned at the kitchen doorway, she took an apron and put it on before glancing back at him with a questioning look.
Winston involuntarily nodded in response. She could cook, yet he had never tasted anything she prepared
It wasn’t because Millie didn’t cook for him. Rather, he had never been interested in anything she did. She had prepared meals for Winston during the early days of their marriage. Millie even sent them to his office. Yet, he never spared a glance and simply gave them to his secretary.
Millie had gone as far as to set up a table full of food, taking pictures and asking Winston if he would come home. On top of that, she would dismiss all the housekeepers and prepare a large family meal whenever they visited the Greer residence.
Winston couldn’t help but feel ashamed as he recalled those moments. He got up and headed toward the kitchen.
Millie glanced at him. Winston was leaning on the door with his arms crossed, wearing a calm expression.
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